Chapter 22
Can a bird fall in a snare upon the earth, where no gin is for him? Shall one take up a snare from the earth, and have taken nothing at all?
—Amos 3:5
Lawrence was already standing when the donor Mattie had been so excited about walked in. He had his ready-to-receive-a-large-donation face on, but his smile quickly fell when his eyes fell upon Gabrielle.
Zachary marched up to his desk with his right hand extended. “Representative Simmons. Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Morgan. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Lawrence shook Zachary’s hand firmly enough, although he continued to keep an eye on the woman with Zachary. “Dr. Morgan. Nice to meet you. What can I do for you?”
Zachary looked at the chairs positioned in front of the representative’s desk. “Mind if we have a seat?”
“Oh, of course! Please, please, sit down, sit down.” He glanced at Gabrielle, who wasn’t smiling at all. “Both of you . . . sit.”
Zachary waited until Gabrielle was seated, then he sat down.
“Gabrielle, how are you?” Lawrence said, trying to regain his obvious loss of footing.
She nodded without saying a word.
“So,” Lawrence said, directing his attention to Zachary. “You’re a doctor. Are you here on official doctor business? Something you need to talk to me about that has to do with legislation? Interested in donating to my campaign?” His chuckle with the last question was quite manufactured.
Zachary leaned in. “Look. I know you’re a busy man. Your secretary all but made that much clear a few minutes ago when she told Gabrielle you were too busy to see her until possibly the end of next week. Funny thing though. Gabrielle has been calling to talk to you long before I picked up the phone yesterday and requested to see you. I seemed to have had no problem in getting on your schedule. So let’s not play games, if you don’t mind. What do you say?” Zachary sat back straight.
Lawrence chuckled a bit as he slowly leaned back into his black leather chair. “I can already tell we’re going to get along splendidly,” he said to Zachary. “But in Mattie’s defense, let me assure you that she meant no harm in not letting me know of you trying to get in touch with me, Gabrielle.” The last sentence was totally directed at Gabrielle.
“Then we all have an understanding here?” Zachary said.
Gabrielle glanced over at Zachary, then Lawrence.
Lawrence leaned in toward Zachar y. “So, why are you here?”
“I suppose the question you really want to ask is: How much do I know?” Zachary said.
The door to Lawrence’s office suddenly swung open without a knock or anything preceding. “Excuse me, sir. But I really need to speak with you. It’s important,” William said, taking strides toward Lawrence’s desk, his long legs closing the distance in no time.
Lawrence held up his hand. “It’s okay, William.”
“Excuse me? But this really is—”
“It’s okay. I got this. And whatever you have that’s important, I’m sure it can wait until this meeting is over. In fact, I don’t think we’re going to be too much longer,” Lawrence said, looking at Zachary as though he were expecting him to confirm that statement.
“But, sir, I have something I think you should see before you continue.” William held out a red folder. Lawrence took it and glanced over it quickly, then nodded as he set the folder down on his desk. “Thanks. You may go now.”
“Excuse me, but did you read it?” William’s eyes darted from Lawrence to the two sitting across from Lawrence.
Lawrence nodded again. “I did, and I said: You may go.” His voice was a bit more forceful this time.
After William left, closing the door behind him, Lawrence swiveled his chair a little. “Would you mind if I speak with Gabrielle alone?” Lawrence said.
“Oh, so now you’re willing to talk to her. But when she was calling before, you and your office were blowing her off.”
“Dr. Morgan . . .” Lawrence stopped a second. “Is it okay if I call you Zachary?”
Zachary hadn’t given any of them his first name, not even when he’d made the appointment. He’d only said Dr. Morgan. “Zachary is fine. But just so you know: This is not about me. I’m here with Gabrielle. And as far as me leaving while the two of you talk, we can skip all that. Gabrielle and I are in this together. There’s a sweet little girl who is not going to live much longer if she doesn’t get the bone marrow transplant she desperately needs. This little girl doesn’t have time for grown folks to be playing silly little games.”
Gabrielle placed her hand over her mouth. Zachary glanced over at her. His words had come out harder than he’d meant, but he had to get Lawrence to see how dire the situation was.
“So, I guess you know more than I thought you did,” Lawrence said. He looked at Gabrielle. “You told him everything? I’m talking about everything?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said. “So whatever he just brought you on me to try and get me to shut up, it really doesn’t matter. You see, Lawrence, that’s the thing about the truth and telling it: No matter what comes up, you’ve already handled it with the truth.”
“So you’re telling me that Dr. Morgan here knows all about your past? Every single detail of it?”
“I’m telling you that I haven’t deliberately kept anything from him,” Gabrielle said. “Now, is there something I didn’t think to volunteer that may look like I’m trying to hide something? If you have something and it’s true, I promise you that I won’t be denying it. Not if it will help save this little girl’s life,” Gabrielle said.
Lawrence put his hand up to his mouth as he picked up the red folder. “So, you’re saying that Zachary here knows all about your father? How your father killed your mother and tried to blame it on someone else? That he’s in prison right now.”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said.
“And he knows all about your wonderfully conniving fraudulent aunt? It appears she’s in a bit of trouble herself right now. Theft, huh?” Lawrence directed that question to Gabrielle. “Looks like dear Aunt Cee-Cee might be getting payback for all the hateful things she did to you, Gabrielle. Forging documents, stealing money that should have gone to your dancing education. Allegedly, I should say. Allegedly. Umph. Some colorful folks in your life, Gabrielle.”
Gabrielle and Zachary just sat there, not commenting.
“You know, Gabrielle. I remember how good you were and just how much you loved to dance,” Lawrence said. “For certain you could have used that money and the experience you would have gained from attending Juilliard. Now that was the real tragedy of all your aunt’s alleged actions. Instead, you ended up at my daughter’s place, kicked out and onto the streets by the very person who stole from you.”
“Listen, I didn’t come here for you to stroll down memory lane,” Gabrielle said.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much you liked to dance, Gabrielle. And how, if these other things hadn’t happened that obviously got you off track, you might have become a celebrated dancer instead of . . . a celebrated stripper.”
Zachary rose to his feet.
“I’m sorry,” Lawrence said, standing to his feet as well. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know she used to take off her clothes in a strip joint for other men for money?” He looked down at Gabrielle. “You didn’t tell the good doctor about Goodness and Mercy? Gabrielle, do you have any idea how much the knowledge of something like that could hurt someone like Dr. Zachary Morgan, if that was to get out in a big way?”
“Let me tell you what I do know,” Zachary said. “I know she might have done that in her past, but after giving her life to Jesus, her past is gone, pardoned, and her slate wiped clean. Gabrielle may have been Goodness and Mercy once upon a time, but because of Jesus and what Jesus did, she’s now on the other side of goodness. She knows what it is to have her past cast into the sea of forgetfulness when it comes to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It’s just devils like you who are always trying to resurrect the past to throw it in folk’s faces. But it’s not going to happen. Not here; not today.”
“I’m taking it that she didn’t tell you about that part of her life and you’re trying to cover it by directing your anger at me,” Lawrence said with a smirk.
“Oh, she told me. She told me about that part of her life. And she told me all about the real you, and not those phony ads that promote you as Mr. Happily Married to the same woman for the past twenty-nine years who you’ve never cheated on, faithful deacon of your church for the past twenty years, loving father of three, man of integrity, who is pro-life and staunchly against abortion,” Zachary said as he stood squarely staring at Lawrence. “Only thing about your lies about yourself is that Gabrielle can bust that entire narrative you’ve been heavily pushing to the voters with just one truth.”
“Is that right? And what truth might that be?”
Gabrielle stood and looked into Lawrence’s eyes. “That you’re the father of an eight-year-old little girl who is going to die if she doesn’t get a bone marrow transplant soon.”
Lawrence laughed. “And that’s supposed to prove I’m not who I say I am? Something from the word of a woman who most would consider one step above being a hooker?”
Zachary balled his hand into a fist. Gabrielle grabbed his hand and held it in hers. “Let him say whatever he wants,” Gabrielle said. “I know the truth, and deep down, so does he. He knows this child is his.”
“I know no such thing.” Lawrence picked up the red folder. “According to this, it appears you and my son-in-law knew each other around that same time. That’s just one person my people have located.” Lawrence looked at Zachary, who was apparently not aware of that piece of information. “Oh, she didn’t tell you the other day when she and Andrew ran into each other at the hospital cafeteria that the two of them already knew each other?” Lawrence smiled.
Zachary tried to hold it together. Gabrielle had indeed not told him that.
“So what are you doing? Having my entire life investigated?” Gabrielle said, looking from Lawrence to Zachary. “Is it so important to you not to help this child that you’ll do anything?”
“I told you. I don’t have anything against that child. But she’s not mine.”
“Be tested and see,” Gabrielle said, her voice escalating. “I’m not asking you to acknowledge her as yours. All I’m asking is for you to have the initial test done to see if there’s a possibility you could be a match. If you’re so sure that you didn’t father her, what harm would it do for you to go and let them put a cotton swab in your mouth to get what they need to see if it’s possible you might be a match at all.”
“And I can tell you as a doctor, you could still be the child’s birth parent and not be a good match.”
“Yeah. Gabrielle told me that the first time we talked.” Lawrence sat down.
Gabrielle eased down in her chair and leaned in toward him. She was wiping away a few tears now. “I told you. I’m not trying to hurt you or your family or your career, for that matter. Truthfully, I’d prefer no one find out about any of this. But I saw her the other day, Lawrence. I got to meet her for the first time since I gave her up. And she is so beautiful. She’s smart. And she has your eyes and your high cheekbones. But in truth, she also looks like my mother.”
Gabrielle looked in her purse and pulled out an old photo of her mother and handed it to him. He refused to take the photo and look at it. She put it back. “I can’t sit back and just let this child die. I can’t. You might not have wanted her and I was in no position to take care of her. All I could do for her was to give her up for adoption. But she’s here, Lawrence. And she’s a child you and I made together.”
Zachary sat down, obviously a bit more composed now. “If this was any of your other three children—”
“Not other.” Lawrence interrupted him. “Nothing has been established that proves this child is mine.”
“Fine,” Zachary said. “If this was any of your three children, what would you do? Wouldn’t you do everything possible to save their lives if it was within your powers to do so? Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you move heaven and earth to find someone to help one of them if you felt someone out there might be a match and they could possibly save your child?”
Lawrence sat up more stoically. “I empathize about this situation. I truly do. But there are lots of problems out there; I can’t help affect them all.” Lawrence looked at Zachary. “Now let me ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Would you risk your career for this situation?” Lawrence said.
“I’m sorry. I’m not quite following you,” Zachary said.
Lawrence looked at Gabrielle as he spoke. “When Gabrielle and I spoke that other time, she indicated, or one might say threatened, to use the information about me and her to get me to do what she wanted.”
“I didn’t actually threaten you,” Gabrielle said. “I was just letting you know that this was important and that I’d do whatever was needed to help save her life.”
“You say toma-toe; I say to-mato,” Lawrence said. “I don’t like being threatened or made to do what others say I have to. If you’re the child’s birth mother and you don’t match, what makes you think I would be a match, even if I was the birth father? What I’m afraid of is that you’ll try and pull my children into this—”
“With all due respect,” Zachary said. “Siblings are much better at being a match than even a parent is most of the time.”
“That may very well be,” Lawrence said. “And if this was one of the three children my wife and I had produced, there might be more of a case for that being true. But let’s just hypothetically say that this child is mine, hypothetically now. My other children have the DNA of me and my wife. We would all actually be going through a bunch of trouble for nothing because the likelihood of any of them matching with a child I supposedly had with this woman here”—he used his head to point to Gabrielle—“would be no better than another set of strangers possibly matching. You would be tearing up my family for nothing.”
“May I make a suggestion,” Gabrielle said. “The only people who know anything about this at this point are me, you, and Zachary.”
“And William,” Lawrence said. “William knows.”
“Okay, then,” Gabrielle said. “Me, you, Zachary, and William. Why don’t you use this issue as part of your reelection campaign platform?”
Lawrence leaned in closer. “I’m not following. What do you mean?”
“I mean you say that you’re pro-life. Why does pro-life only seem to mean protecting the unborn child? Why is pro-life not about life after a child is born? Think of the good you’d do if your platform somehow brought awareness to those in need of donor-type help . . .” Gabrielle stopped to compose herself. “Black people aren’t so great when it comes to being donors. If you were to take the initiative on something like bone marrow transplant, you could help bring more awareness to the forefront. At the same time of leading in this, you could show how lives can be saved, if it turns out you or one of your children is a match and becomes a donor.”
“I just don’t know about my children being involved. And let’s just say one of them turns out to be a match. I would never force them to do something like this, not if they didn’t want to do it on their own.”
“If one of them turned out to be a match,” Zachary said, “at worst, their part would only require them to have a special needle draw marrow from their hip bone. Here lately, they’ve developed a way to do it like taking blood, separating the cells needed and pumping the blood back into the donor. And since the donor’s part is an outpatient procedure, there’s no real recovery time required. The body replenishes the extracted morrow cells very quickly.”
“Still, what you’re proposing,” Lawrence said to both Gabrielle and Zachary, “might be something to consider as a possible win for all. But I’d have to think about it a bit longer. I’m not quite sold on the part that if I’m not a match, I’d need to involve my children. That’s the part causing me pause and concern. Also feeling as though I’m being blackmailed into doing this doesn’t sit well with me either.”
“I’m not blackmailing you,” Gabrielle said. “I’m merely fighting for a child who didn’t ask to come here and who appears to have been dealt a bad hand. I’m praying for her healing but doing what I can to help. I don’t match, so I’m on step two of the process of what comes after that. And that just happens to involve you.”
“Well, if God were to heal her, it would certainly save all of us a lot of heartache and trouble,” Lawrence said. “I wouldn’t have to be weighing my options right now. And you, Dr. Morgan, wouldn’t have to be wondering what tangled webs you may have gotten yourself into.”
Zachary stood, reached down, and took Gabrielle by the hand, helping her to her feet. Gazing lovingly into Gabrielle’s eyes, he said, “I don’t have to ever worry about what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m just thankful to God that I’m here. And I can assure you: I’m going to do all that I can, in anyway that I can.” He turned back to Lawrence. “I’m confident God will take care of this little girl, He’ll take care of Gabrielle, and He’ll take care of me as we go through whatever we may find ourselves facing.”
Lawrence stood to his feet. “Well, I will pray about my next move.”
Gabrielle picked up her purse and took out a card. “Here’s the info you need to schedule the test to see if you’re even a possible candidate to be a match. If you’ll provide them with that access code, it will let them know you desire to be tested for that particular recipient and only that one.”
Lawrence took the card and gazed down at it before looking at Gabrielle. “This is good, because I’m seriously not trying to be a donor for anybody else I might end up being a possible match to.” He laid the card down on his desk.
“Oh, and since I have such a hard time getting past Ms. Stevens when I call to talk to you, will you—”
“I will inform Mattie to put you through if I’m available. And if I’m not, I promise to call you back as soon as it’s convenient. But I’d like to put this to rest, once and for all, to take this completely off the table. So I’m going to go get tested. And should the results return stating that I’m not even remotely close to being a possible match, then let’s all agree to leave this and be done with it. Agreed?” Lawrence presented his hand to Gabrielle to shake in agreement.
Gabrielle looked at his open hand, then shook it. “Agreed,” she said.
He held out his hand to Zachary next. As Zachary shook it, Lawrence grabbed him by the elbow with his other hand, giving it a nice strong pump. A power move, Zachary thought as he smiled. Okay, so . . . he’s trying to prove he’s the more powerful between me and him. Zachary nodded.